No Way In Hell
by Xrai
Summary: She couldn't seriously be wanting him to wear that...


This is my first Batman Begins/The Dark Knight fanfic so please be nice.

**Disclaimer: Batman does not belong to me. It/He belongs to DC Comics.**

This takes place some time after the events in The Dark Knight.

* * *

_**Bruce Wayne: **__I need a new suit._

_**Lucius Fox:**__ Hmm, three buttons_ is_ a little ninety's, Mr. Wayne._

― **The Dark Knight**

* * *

**No Way in Hell**

The woman had seriously bad taste when it came to clothes. Men's clothes especially. _His _clothes.

Bruce Wayne really did not want be there, in Gotham's largest mall, shopping for clothes. Firstly because shopping had never really been (and still wasn't) his thing. (He never really cared about what he wore when he was _Bruce Wayne_ –though the tabloids did.) Secondly, Fox had just added upgrades to the suit and he was _dying_ to try it out. (Almost literally; while the latest knife wound hadn't required professional medical attention, it had only stopped bleeding two days ago and generally made breathing hard and deeply, running, jumping, beating people up and basically anything that he did every day –night actually– _very_ painful.)

"How about _this_, Bruce?"

Interrupted from his thoughts, he irritably turned around to face his newest 'girlfriend' ('the playboy's newest catch', 'the new Mrs. Wayne', yadda, yadda, yadda…).

"How about this?" she repeated, waving some large article of clothing in front of his face so that he was forced to back-pedal in order to get a good look at the thing. At first he noticed that it was far too large for him. As the Batman, he got a lot of '_exercise_', and the pounds he'd shed during the past year had gotten all those stupid gossip rags and those ridiculous men's health magazines scrambling to interview Gotham's Prince for the 'secret' of his 'super sexy new look' (though Alfred called it 'unhealthy'. Bruce himself had just smiled for the cameras and spouted some rubbish about 'visiting the gym', leading to an all new high in gym membership). But size wasn't much of a problem; one word and he'd have the whole store scuttling to find one of the right size. No, what was far worse than that was that the suit was purple.

_Purple_.

She _had_ to be joking. She couldn't possibly want him to _wear_ that.

"C'mon, Bruce. Try it on." She shook the pinstriped jacket and pants combo at him. "I'll get them to find you the right size, I'm sure that–"

"No."

"Sorry, Brucie?" (God, how he_ hated_ it when they called him that.)

"I'm sorry Lana, but I'm not going to wear it. Or even try it on. It's… (_ugly_)… it doesn't conform to my taste."

And it reminded him too much of the Jo– a certain individual ―_Don't think of that right now, don't think of him_― those thoughts always lead to _Rachel, Rachel, Rachel…_

Svetlana pouted. "But Brucie," she whined, "purple is _in_."

Dammit, he didn't care if the president of the United States himself wore purple everyday, there was absolutely _no way in hell_ he was going to wear _that_.

"No. Please, Lana. I _do not_ want to try it on." And he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, hoping that it would placate her (because, God, how the woman could sulk).

"Mmm, Brucie," she murmured, twining her hand around his tie and pulling him further down to kiss her. Normally he wouldn't have cared (in fact he found it amusing how that one tiny act could send the gossips into a frenzy) but today he had no desire to become tabloid fodder. So he pulled away and gently but firmly removed the hand that was trying to sneak into his shirt.

"Aww," she said, openly showing her disappointment by turning the corners of her cherry red lips down. "Brucie…"

He took the suit from her and replaced it on the rack then grasped her by the elbow and gently steered her away from it. "Let's go get something for you, okay?"

"Oh, all right," she relented and the scowl faded a little. "I saw this really great dress and it…" He let her talk, relieved that disaster had been averted. Besides her really bad taste when it came to suits, it also wouldn't have done if she'd seen his scars (especially that barely healing slash). Behind them, a petite sales assistant tottered after them under the bags and boxes carrying Svetlana's previous purchases.

They were passing the men's accessories section when Svetlana stopped in her tracks. "Oh, look at this! Isn't it cute?"

The tie was bright red with little yellow smileys dotting it at random. It came with two cuff links, both bright yellow smiley faces.

_For the love of all that is holy…_

* * *

Please review.

I'm aware that Bruce may be a bit OOC, so I'll gladly welcome any comments and critiques.


End file.
